


Understand (What You Do)

by euhemeria



Series: And, In Sign of Ancient Love, Their Plighted Hands They Join [49]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Character Study, Family Dynamics, Gen, Guilt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-29
Updated: 2019-01-29
Packaged: 2019-10-19 02:27:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,014
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17592878
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/euhemeria/pseuds/euhemeria
Summary: What became of Oppenheimer’s daughter?  Few people think to ask, but Brigitte knows, remembers the day she searched, desperately, for a precedent to her situation, remembers reading the single page about her in a biography on the Manhattan Project, remembers well the final words, part of the only paragraph not to mention her father, the only part of Toni Oppenheimer’s legacy uniquely her own: suicide, aged 33.Or,Brigitte considers what it means to be the daughter of a man who compared himself to Oppenheimer.





	Understand (What You Do)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [vic_e_ter](https://archiveofourown.org/users/vic_e_ter/gifts).



> stayed up til past 7am talking ovw headcanons w vice when i spent the weekend at their place... anyway this is one of the things that came out of it. i have a lot of thoughts abt brigittes characterization, as a person who knows ppl whose grand/parents committed war crimes, bc like... hmm. theres a Lot to unpack there, and i feel like blizzard is foolish for not going more in-depth abt this. oh well. more material for me

When Overwatch is Recalled, there is discussion among the public about whether the organization ought to return, whether anyone who participated in the original team can be trusted to not make the same mistakes, whether the legacy of Overwatch is one that makes the organization _worth_ reviving, or if in its brief life it did more harm than good.  For the most part, Brigitte ignores the public discourse, ignores it even when it finds its way to her parents’ dining room table, ignores it even as she enlists along with Reinhardt.  It is easy enough to ignore—those who were not in Overwatch do not _know_ Overwatch, do not know the myriad of ways in which its downfall was manufactured not from within but from without, as the United Nations determined that it was not _worth_ the cost, with the Omnic Crisis years behind them, do not know the choices that were not Overwatch’s to make, but that they were blamed for the outcome of nonetheless. 

It is easy enough, but one word is as inescapable to Brigitte as to everyone else, is something she can never quite manage to ignore: _legacy._

All of them in Overwatch are the legacy of something; heroes are never born, but are made by their circumstances.  With some of them, it is more obvious than others: Reinhardt talks about the legacy of the Crusaders, of what it meant, once, to be a knight, Lúcio fights to win back his father’s legacy from Vishkar, to try and stop them from controlling the narrative and the potential of the technology he developed, and Fareeha—Fareeha is preoccupied with legacies most of all.

Sometimes, Brigitte has a great deal of empathy for Fareeha; their childhoods were not dissimilar, despite the gap of nine years between them.  Both of them grew up with one civilian parent and another in Overwatch, both of them know what it is to be known by last name and not by first, both of them have worked to define themselves outside of the legacy which they were born into, to not exist as a child first and a person second.

(Neither of them has been yet successful.)

Sometimes, Brigitte has a great deal of sympathy for Fareeha.  After all, she is always supported by her own parents in her endeavors, and cannot imagine what it must have been like to have been told by her mother that she _could not_ follow in her footsteps, could not work to continue the legacy she would never have had any means of escaping, even if she had tried.  It cannot have been easy to go through that, particularly when it was followed immediately by Ana’s death.  Even if Ana has come back, now, Brigitte would not like to imagine what it would be to go through the same, and often wishes that there were something she might do or say in order to somehow—she does not know, truly.  To do _something_ would be better than to do nothing.

(Usually, at least.)

Sometimes, however, Brigitte wishes that Fareeha would just _shut up._ Yes, her life has been harder in some ways, and yes, Brigitte would not want to experience the things she has, but to hear her talk of legacies, to see the _pride_ in her eyes, the joy that living up to the name Amari brings her—it makes Brigitte sick with jealousy.  In the end, Ana returned, and Fareeha got her happy ending, got the opportunity to continue her family legacy _alongside_ her mother, to achieve her childhood dream, and escape the pain that legacy brought her, but Brigitte?  Brigitte is still a Lindholm.

(There are worse things to be, she knows, and she feels guilty for being jealous—knows, too, thanks to an offhand comment by Angela, that Fareeha is somewhat jealous of _her_ , of the fact that she had two parents who always encouraged her to follow her dreams, and never tried to stop her from being the woman she knew she must become.  Even so, Fareeha never gives any outward indication of what she is feeling, and Brigitte therefore feels all the worse for being jealous as she is, because even when jealous, it is plain to see that Fareeha has never wished her ill.  Like all those with the Amari name, Fareeha is far too _noble_ to let a little thing like jealousy stop her from doing what is right.)

Ultimately, it is all well and good to be an Amari; they are defenders, have established as a legacy their willingness to champion those who need them, those who might otherwise be forgotten, be left to suffer.  When people say the name _Amari_ , it is reverently, is done in the context of praise, is inevitably followed by something positive.

The same cannot be said for the Lindholm legacy.

If the name Amari brings to mind a legacy of protection, the name Lindholm serves as a reminder of what the people need be protected _from._ Bastions as a legacy would be terrible enough, but Titans?

Titans levelled cities, and _that_ is the Lindholm legacy. 

Destroyers of worlds, her father called them, recalling Oppenheimer, and while he was not wrong to do so, while Titans destroyed more cities than only the two, while the loss of life was just as total, he spared no thought to his children in so doing.

(What became of Oppenheimer’s daughter?  Few people think to ask, but Brigitte knows, remembers the day she searched, desperately, for a precedent to her situation, remembers reading the single page about her in a biography on the Manhattan Project, remembers well the final words, part of the only paragraph not to mention her father, the only part of Toni Oppenheimer’s legacy uniquely her own: _suicide, aged 33_.)

If he had thought, for a second, what it would mean to grow up knowing that the very same hands which architected one of the greatest tragedies faced by mankind were the ones that rubbed soothing circles on one’s back after nightmares, the ones that taught one to draft, to bolt, to wire, the ones that jokingly pretended to pinch of one’s nose, if he had thought for a second about the cognitive dissonance that came with loving him, with having him for a father, with being nurtured by a man whose legacy was the slaughter of millions, if he had thought for a second about what it would mean for her, he would never have said those words.

He did not think, though; he stood in front of the UN inquest into all Overwatch activity following the explosion of the Swiss Headquarters, and when they asked him about his legacy, when they pressed him on what he did in R&D, given his history, when he had the chance to mention all that he had done since to atone—he did not think, and Brigitte pays the price for it to this day.

(Never mind that he did not think, also, when he made the weapons.  That is something that he acknowledges, at least, something for which he can admit fault—even if it did not stop him from continuing his work, in Overwatch, it did teach him caution, did by his own admission lead him to hesitate when Angela told him that his use of her technology was unacceptable.  To Brigitte, what matters more is the mistakes he still will not acknowledge, that his is a legacy that defines not on himself but his children, and their children, and all those who will come after.)

When he said such, she was young, still, only sixteen and in school, and the reaction of those who knew her shapes her to this day.  It was one thing to know that he had some involvement, and that Overwatch was his way of atoning, but the Fall, the trial, his statements; her classmates saw her, with her love of engineering and her last name, and thought she followed in his footsteps, that her hands, too, could only destroy, and she knows some people see that still. 

Looking back, she knows that she did not handle the scrutiny well, knows that she should not have accepted the things that were said, and distanced herself by instead searching desperately for a better legacy, and trying to emulate Reinhardt.  She could have fought for the Lindholm legacy, could have told her peers that her father’s acceptance of his responsibility in the deaths his technology caused is far nobler than to have denied the same, she could have done something besides internalize the feeling of guilt, taking her father’s sins upon her as her own—but she did not. 

Instead, she took it upon herself to atone, too, for the things her father did, although she cannot bring herself to do so by his side.  Seven years on and she doubts she will ever succeed.

How could anyone have mercy for the Lindholms?  How could anyone hear the name, and not think of the lives that were lost for one man’s shortsightedness?  Even those who claim to forgive them have not truly done so.

(Angela is such a one.  She is close to them, yes, for Ingrid and Torbjörn hold one of the final connections to her own dead parents, and she says all is forgiven, but Brigitte remembers well the way Angela flinched when called her sister, the uncharacteristic sharpness when she replied that they were not siblings, and never would be.  There are some things which even those who wish to forgive are unable to.  Atonement is impossible when the victims are not alive to forgive.)

Nonetheless, Brigitte strives to rewrite their legacy.  She cannot do so at her father’s side, cannot work with him and not be consumed by the resentment she feels for the legacy she was born into, cannot stop herself from commenting, when he works to build his newest weapon, that perhaps the world has seen enough of such innovations.  Such assessments are not entirely fair—he does what he does because he wants to protect those whom he loves, because he wants to restore order to a world that his creations ravaged, and his intent is not to destroy, but to defend so that others might rebuild—but she cannot help but remember the holovids she saw in school, the raw destructive power of the Crisis-era Titans on display, cannot help but remember not the feeling of every eye in the room on her, but the shame, the horror, the grief, both of the victims and herself.

Her father is a great father.  He cares for her, and for all of her siblings, he treats them fairly and respects that they each have their own unique interests and ambitions, and he does his best to support them in all their endeavors.  Even when she thought she wanted to follow in his footsteps, he never thought to force her to do so, although, when asked, he taught her all she knows.

Her father is a terrible man.  It will be a long time before the world recovers from the Omnic Crisis, and even then, there are things which are lost to humanity forever, thanks to the things he created.  No one will truly rest easy again, knowing how simple it would be for a new Crisis to erupt, and for that same technology to again wreak havoc upon the world.  Were it not for him, _his_ Bastions, _his_ Titans, then the Crisis might never have happened, for he is the best at his job, and his weapons were always the deadliest.

Reconciling the two—her father, his legacy—is impossible.

As much as she can, Brigitte avoids working at his side, even within the Recall.  It is easier, that way, to love her father, because although she can never forget what it is that he has done, can never forgive it, can never fix it, she can try to compartmentalize it, to see the Torbjörn who is her father and the Torbjörn who is the architect of mass casualties as two different people.

(When she tried to think of him as both, the guilt nearly consumed her—how dare she love someone who took from so many others the same opportunity to love their fathers?  How dare she hate her father, who has been nothing but good to her, for something she _knows_ he is trying to fix?  Such questions solved nothing, only left her frozen, incapable at the time of doing anything to help others, so consumed was she with her own dilemmas.  If she is going to change their legacy, if she is going to help heal the wounds caused by her father’s actions, she cannot dwell on the contradictions too much.)

Such is made easier by the ways in which she deploys her skills.  Unlike her father, Brigitte has never sought—will never seek—to defend others by building bigger and better weaponry; her innovations are focused upon shielding, and better methods of application for the nanobiotic technology Angela has developed, ones which do not involve a weaponization of her technology. 

(She has come to work alongside Angela often, and it is strange, to see her not as an almost-sister but as a professional, strange to realize how much guilt she carries, too.  Brigitte’s father is not the only one among them whose technology was used to destroy—Angela may not have intended to build the perfect weapon, when she created her nanites, but in the wrong hands they come close.)

When Brigitte does work with weaponry—her own, or anyone else’s—she does not build the sorts of things her father did.  All of her work is medieval: her mace, minor upgrades to Reinhardt’s hammer, their shields.  Although there are some improvements, for the most part they function just as the weapons of centuries before.  No AI can control them, they are difficult to use without the proper training (even for herself), and most importantly, they are _personal._

To kill, Brigitte must be in striking distance of her target, must be near enough to see their face as she does so.

It is brutal.  It is awful.  It is a guarantee that, unlike her father, it is impossible for her or the weapons she has created to kill millions.  Every kill is personal, is necessary, is something she will not forget, and that is how death _should_ be. 

There are downsides, of course.  There have been times when she has had to drop her shield in order to strike, and someone she was trying to protect paid the price, and her dreams are sometimes haunted by the _crunch_ of a killing blow, the way that connecting can be heard and felt simultaneously.  Reinhardt warned her that this would happen, and she accepted it, but still—it is not easy.   Killing is never a simple thing.

(Her father warned her, too.  Even as proud as he was, to see her follow in his footsteps, he warned her every step of the way about what might happen, were she to become like him, and so when she began to train with Reinhardt, he warned her about the potential consequences of that as well, made sure that she knew exactly what it was that she was dedicating herself to.  When she decided to follow Reinhardt anyway, he supported her, as best he could.)

When she can avoid it, Brigitte does not fight alongside her father, even knowing he does not disapprove of what she does, because although she is aware that it is not easy for her father to kill, either, it certainly seems it.  His weaponry streamlines the process in a way which is, to her, far too impersonal, and therefore lends itself towards abuses.

Nothing that she does is impersonal.

If anything, an argument could be made that Brigitte’s work is _too_ personal, for ultimately the legacy she fights to correct—to overcome—is her father’s, and not solely her own.  What she does, she does not only because it is right, for there are many ways to defend people, if that were her only cause, ways which do not involve warfare, but because she needs the world to see that the name Lindholm can mean more than just death, just destruction.

(She needs the world to see that her father is more than those things, too.)

If Brigitte were someone else, such a mission might be a terrible burden, might be a source of grief, but although she despairs for the lives lost—the she failed to save, just as much as the ones her father’s technology took—she has learned more than just technique from Reinhardt, she has learned _hope._

When Brigitte works to repair her father’s legacy, she does so in the belief that if she tries hard enough, their family can still have a net positive impact, and if her father can be redeemed, can learn from his mistakes and work to better the world, then surely anyone can.

Intention is not everything.  Her father’s intention to defend did not stop his Titans from destroying entire cities.  Yet, it is enough, for her, to know that the intent of the Recall is good, is enough for her to believe that Overwatch can learn from its mistakes, just as her father has, and that for that reason the Recall will be successful.

Once, her atonement was done out of guilt, but now, her actions are motivated by hope instead, and with it the belief that humanity will continue to learn to be better, to do better, and that one day, although the Crisis will never be forgiven, enough will have been done that no one need fear a second Omnic Crisis.

For this reason, she joins the Recall, and for this reason, she shall stay.  Even if Overwatch will never erase its legacy, it can at least work to repair the wounds that it left, can in this generation do better than in the one before.

She truly believes that.  She must.

**Author's Note:**

> sorry if u found any egregious typos in here i got hit by a car today so im like... not editing this. LMFAO. like im totally fine tho it was more like i got _bumped gently_ by a car. anyway it was my own fault bc just this weekend i was talking to my friends skitch and vice abt how theyve both been hit by cars and i was like HOW so u know. of course. i get hit by a car this same week. be safe y'all and dont get hit by a car!
> 
> also the part abt toni oppenheimer is 100% true and unfortunately there really isnt much more info abt her out there, unless u want stuff that is all tied up in the narrative of her father. she and her brother (said to have inherited an "engineers hands" interestingly enough) both became recluses, but her brother the carpenter is still alive. if u wanna know more abt how much their childhoods sucked, there are interesting biographies on oppenheimer out there, esp american prometheus, but again, not much abt toni herself
> 
> anyway im still jumping at the chance to write any complicated daughter/parent dynamic. whats new?


End file.
